


The Infirmary (rewritten)

by RokiSmiles



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Blind Character, Blindness, Blood, Boys In Love, Broken Bones, Depression, Eventual Smut, First Time, Injury, M/M, Major Character Injury, Medical Inaccuracies, Medical Procedures, Medical Trauma, Physical Disability, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Depression, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Survivors Guilt, They have morphine because I said so, rewriting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-10-20 14:28:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17624141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RokiSmiles/pseuds/RokiSmiles
Summary: As Jean lays there in the infirmary, he can't help but wish he had indulged in his selfish desires and joined the Military Police. At least then, he wouldn't be stuck in this tiny room, wishing for death, watching Armin do the very same in the bed beside him.Inspired by the fic ”The Cost of One's Malice” by Silver_shortage_in_Markarth(rewritten because I hated the original)Series named after: “Bird Song” by Florence + The Machine





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Cost of One's Malice](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15082481) by [Silver_Shortage_in_Markarth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silver_Shortage_in_Markarth/pseuds/Silver_Shortage_in_Markarth). 



> Hello all! I decided to rewrite this fic because I didn't like the direction of the other one. Hopefully, this one will turn out better.

Jean's vision is blurry.

He can't see much, nor can he hear very well. Everything sounds muffled, as if he has cotton in his ears. He faintly realizes he's moving; he can feel the bumps of a carriage rolling over the bumpy dirt roads, but not much else. He tries to move his numb limbs, starting with his finger tips. He manages to wiggle them a bit but the effort makes him feel tired…what was going on?

"Legs" is the first word Jean is able to make out. The voice is familiar, but he can't for the life of him place who it belongs to. A blob of red appears above him, disturbing the solid cream of the cloth carriage covering, Jean tries to make out who the blob is, but is interrupted by the jolt of the carriage coming to a sudden stop. Jean jumps as he feels whatever he is lying on lift him up and out of the cart. Where was he going? What was happening?

"...the entire squad, commander." Jean can just make out the muffled voice from earlier, realizing after a beat that it was the red blob talking. "...only two survivors, both severely injured."

So he was hurt? Jean wondered, still trying to make sense of what was happening. He didn't feel hurt though? And he couldn't remember anything either. What had happened? Who was the other person that was hurt? His mind continued to wonder as he was moved from the hard platform that was used to carry him in to what he assumed was a bed. Blinking once more, he was able to make out bright lights against a white ceiling. He could hear the voice from earlier, "we're going to have to rebreak them."

Rebreak what? Jean felt two sets of hands grab his wrists, and another push down on his chest. Two fingers coaxed his mouth open, a cloth was placed in between his teeth. Confused, Jean began to move, pulling against the hands. He felt two more pairs of hands rest softly on his legs-

White hot pain shot through Jean Kirchstien’s entire being; he jerked against the human restraints, but was held firmly in place. His screams echoed off the walls, ripping his throat to shreds, as he felt the two people at the foot of his bed snapping the bones in his legs. Black spots clouded his vision as tears streamed down his face, and he desperately tried to get away from the excruciating pain coursing through him. He jerked, his back arching, trying to escape the pain shooting through his entire being. A cold, sweat settled in his brow as he screamed and fought harder, the soldiers holding him down struggling to keep him down. Finally, After what felt like centuries, his body had mercy and he passed out.

\----------------Line Break----------------

Jean groaned, blinking away the blurriness from his vision. He took in his surroundings with confusion, the white-washed walls very different from the usual dark brown of the barracks. The bed was different as well, instead of bunks made of wood, he was in a metal framed single. After a few minutes, his confused and muddled brain realized where he was.

The infirmary. He was in the infirmary wing of the Survey Corps.

That's when the memories started coming back. One blood, the screaming, his legs being rebroken, his squad-

_His Squad._

If he was hurt this badly, what about the rest of his squadmates? Jean desperately searched through his memories, trying to remember what had happened to them, but kept drawing up blanks. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't place where Annie, Grayson, Faith, or Armin had been.

_Fuck, Armin!_

Jean was really starting to panic now. Armin was one of his closest friends, despite his close relationship with Eren. They had grown close over the last two years, he’d been his rock after Marco’s demise. He was always there to listen, to use his logical mindset to calm Jean’s irrational anger, just as Jean was there to be blunt and calm Armin’s anxiety. They relied on one another, and to think that he may be losing yet another friend to these monsters shook Jean to his very core. 

”Jean?...”

Jean started, whipping his head in the direction of the voice. Relief flooded his being as his golden eyes met those familiar blue. Jean had always appreciated Armin’s eyes, even before they were friends. Something about them had always felt calming, stating into them always seemed to calm his nerves. 

”Thank God...” Jean choked out, his voice rough and scratchy. 

Armin gave Jean a weak smile, and it was then that Jean finally  _looked_ at Armin.

His blonde hair was matted, evident he had been in the infirmary for a while. His white skin looked washed out against the white interior of the medical bay. His lips were chapped and his uniform had been replaced with a simple blue T-shirt and grey sweatpants. An open book sat on his lap, a half-eaten bowl of soup lay on the nightstand to his left. His snow white skin was disrupted by angry red gashes on the right side of his face, some were short, less than a few centimeters long, while some went from his temple to his collarbone. Many of the gashes weren't very wide, but there were a few that had to be at least a few centimeters wide. 

”Shit...” Jean whispered, ”what happened?” 

”I honestly can't remember,” Armin replied, closing the book on his lap in favor of facing Jean. Jean stared at him curiously, watching as Armin tilted his head so that his undamaged half was more prominent. 

”why are you sitting like that?” Jean questioned, abandoning the original conversation.

”oh...well, uh...” Sadness made itself evident in Armin’s being, causing a sense of dread to settle in Jean’s stomach. 

”yes?...”

”So I can see you.”

The words hit Jean hard. For this first time, Jean noticed how unfocused Armin’s right eye was, how it seemed to look through him instead of at him like his left eye did. ”Armin...”

”No, it's fine.” The blonde cut in, forcing a smile. ”Seriously, I've accepted it.”

The tone of his voice suggested he wanted to change the subject, and out of respect, Jean obliged. ”So you can't remember anything?”

Seemingly pleased with the shift in conversation, Armin replied with a soft smile. ”No... The last thing I remember is eating breakfast that morning.”

”I see... I don’t remember much either, just a few brief flashes here and there...”

A heavy silence fell over the two, Both sensing the next subject, neither wanting to approach it. After what felt like an eternity, Armin finally spoke, his voice laced with what Jean could only describe as exhaustion. 

”We’re the only two survivors.”

”I thought so...” Jean mumbled, another bout of silence overtaking the small room.

”So... How are you feeling?” Armin asked, trying his best to break through the uncomfortable silence. 

Desperate to change subjects, Jean answered a little too quickly, cutting the blonde off at the end. ”Okay.”

Armin blinked, Jean’s face began to heat up in embarrassment. Breaking eye contact, Jean coughed. 

”Well that's good, considering you’ve been out for two days.”

Jean started at that, eyes wide. ” _Two Days?”_

Armin nodded in confirmation, causing Jean’s head to swirl. ”Jeez...”

”Anyway, are you hungry?” Armin asked, grabbing a bell. ”I can call the nurse to bring you something.”

Jean nodded, laying back down as Armin rang the bell three times. His mind swam with all the new information he’d been given. His condition, Armin’s eye, his fallen squad mates. All which left him feeling numb, with a sigh, he pushed all the thoughts away for now, choosing to focus on trying to eat his newly delivered bread and soup.

He’d deal with the rest in the morning.


	2. Chapter Two

_The first thing Jean noticed was the screaming._

 

_loud, piercing sounds shooting through the open field. All different pitches, all from different directions. The sounds bounced around in his skull, torturing his mind as he was forced to endure the noise of such suffering._

 

_The second thing he noticed was the sky. How the clouds drifted lazily in the vast, endless blue. The way the sun shined brightly, blindingly so. A squawking flock of birds flew overhead, seemingly obvious to the massacre below them._

 

_Oh how Jean longed for such ignorance._

 

_The third thing Jean noticed was the blood. It was everywhere, the grass, the bodies, the discarded gear…_

 

_Blonde hair._

 

_Armin was motionless on the ground. Blonde hair matted with blood, his right wrist bent unnaturally. His gear was extremely damaged, blades seemingly snapped into pieces. Jean couldn’t tell if he was even still breathing. Blood was everywhere, staining his white pants a sickly red. A sickly sharp contrast against his pale skin. His chest didn’t seem to be moving._

 

_Please still be breathing._

 

_Please. I can’t be the only one left. Please Armin, please keep breathing._

 

_Please._

 

_In the distance, he could hear yelling. Not the horrid shriek of a soldier approaching death, but one of authority._

 

_“Check for survivors!”_

 

_Jean weakly lifted his head, trying his best to show signs of life. He heard the sound of a horse's hooves coming closer, the wheels of a cart not far behind. He was being lifted, a horrible surge of pain caused him to cry out. Black spots clouded his vision. He’d lose consciousness soon. But even with the world going black, and voices muffling, he heard four words crystal clear;_

 

_“Arlert’s still breathing sir!”_

 

_He’s still breathing._

_\-------------------Line Break--------------------_

Jean awoke in a cold sweat, heart beating out of his chest from the memory. Flashes of his fellow squad mates hit him as if he’d just now realized he and Armin were the only survivors.

He and Armin were the only survivors.

_He and Armin were the only survivors._

Jean leaned over the bed rails, dispelling the contents from his stomach onto the infirmary's floor. His mind raced as he finally came to terms with what had truly happened. His entire squad, as well as most of the right wing, had been eradicated. He and Armin were the only survivors. His felt another wave of nausea hit as he realized he was never going to walk properly again. Armin was now partially blind, and they’ll both have to deal with these disabilities for the rest of their lives-

Jean’s body had resorted to dry heaving. Tears welled in his eyes at the burning sensation in his throat and nose as he gripped the bed rails. He began shaking, breathing heavily as he panicked. He felt hot, too hot, yet cold at the same time. A sob choked it’s way out of his throat in between gags as the gravity of the situation settled in him.

_I may never walk again._

_I may never walk again!_

Jean heaves once more as he began to sob. His sweaty forehead rested against the cool metal of the bed rails. Jean gripped his short locks tightly and pulled, letting out a muffled scream into his forearm as he did. His life was over. Not only will he be kicked out of the military, but he won't even be able to get a proper job. He’ll be dependent on his mother for the rest of his life, to provide food, shelter, and other basic necessities. 

_God, I’ll be such a burden._

Another scream forces its way out of Jean’s throat as more and more self-deprecating thoughts swam through Jean’s anxiety-stricken mind.

_This is what I get for always being such an ass._

”Fuck!” Jean screamed, slamming his first down onto the bed railing. ”Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. _Fuck. Fuck._ **Fuck-** ”

”Jean?...” 

The brunette barely registers the soft voice coming from across the room. He turns throat burning, towards the blonde. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he acknowledges the fact that his first his bleeding.

”Jean... You’re bleeding...” Armin mumbles, the concern in his voice obvious. He slides out of bed, walking towards a small cabinet in between their beds and takes out a roll of gauze and a bottle of rubbing alcohol. He then makes his way over to Jean’s right, reaching out for Jean’s bloodied hand.

Jean flinches, jerking back his arm, causing the blonde to frown. 

”Jean...i need to clean and bandage your hand.” 

Reluctantly, Jean obliged, hissing when then alcohol burns against his wound. ” _shit!”_

They sit in silence as Armin works, wrapping the gauze snug around the brunettes palm. When he finishes, Armin looks up, blue once again locking with gold. 

And then the anxiety is gone. As is the pain, fear, and self-hatred. All of his problems are washed away as soon as Armin’s eyes lock on his.

Jean can't help but wonder if they’re the same color as that ocean thing, he and Eren talk about so much.

Despite how dark the infirmary is, Jean can still make out the gashes disturbing Armin’s otherwise smooth skin. The smallest sliver of moonlight dances across his pale skin, highlighting the red marks even more than usual. Suddenly, Jean feels the overwhelming urge to trace each one with his finger, commit each trail of scarred flesh to memory. Every fiber of his being is screaming at him to do it, to reach out and run his finger across the injured boys face. As he lifts his hand to do it, however, he’s interrupted by the very boy himself.

”Are you okay?”

Jean blinks, forced out of his stupor. ”what?...”

”I woke up to you screaming your head off and punching the bed rails... Are you okay?” Armin reiterates with concern. 

”O-oh!” Jean yells, startling the blonde. ”Yeah... I'm fine now... Nightmare...” 

”I see...” Armin chews on his lip, obviously still worried, but doesn't push the subject. ”You should inform Hanji.” 

Jean nods quickly, eyes trailing the blonde as he walks back to his own bed. His heart flutters as Armin tells him goodnight, adding that if he has any more nightmares to wake him. Jean agrees, lying down himself, only falling asleep once Armin’s own breathing slowed. 

_Please keep breathing._

And he did.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are very much appreciated! (: thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little shorter than usual, hope you like it none the less (:

Jean felt his mother grip his hand tight as Hanji gave them the solemn news. He bit his lip, refusing eye contact with anyone in the room. He felt angry tears well up in his eyes, but furiously blinked them away before anyone could notice. He wasn't about to have yet another breakdown, especially not in front of his already frantic mother.

Jean had woken up in the wee hours of the morning to the infirmary's door slamming open. His mother has rushed in, tears already flowing, and hugged him the best she could without disturbing his already injured limbs. She had sat with him for hours, fingers running through his short, brunette, locks, whispering how sorry she was as if this whole thing had been her fault.

Of course, in the midst of the noise. Armin had also been awoken from his seemingly peaceful slumber. The blonde had watched for a while, a strange look of wistfulness shining in his seeing eye, before finally looking away and opening a book. He hadn't budged for the next few hours, save for the occasional page turn. 

Now, as Hanji explained the extent of his injuries to he and his mother, Jean could see Armin frantically burying his face in his book, His once calm and somewhat stiff demeanor deteriorating as he tried his best to not intrude on the small families personal time.

Jean appreciated his efforts.

”but will he be able to walk?” 

His mother's frantic voice ripped Jean out of his thoughts. The tawny-eyed boy couldn't notice how much older she sounded then, her usually soft and youthful voice now low and full of cracks. Her tone laced with concern and grief, none of which would be there if it hadn't been for him.

_I've ruined her._

Guilt weaved itself around Jean’s being, gripping like a vice. A cold sweat began to form on the young soldier's brow as the realization kicked in that _he_ was was the reason she sounded so defeated, _he_ was the reason she had ran into the room sobbing, _he_ was the reason she wouldn't be able to retire.

_It's all your fault._

_It’s all your fault_

**_It's all your fault._ **

”He’ll be able to walk with the assistance of specialized crutches,” Hanji confirmed, sadness creeping into her voice as she continued. ”He’ll have to learn to be dependent on them, it’ll be like learning to walk all over again.”

Jean’s mother nodded, wiping away the tears that continued to roll down her cheeks. ”but he’ll walk...”

With a small nod, Hanji answered, ”he’ll walk.”

Another sob shook Ms. Kirchstien’s body as Hanji left to attend to other business. Though, this time, instead of fearful tears, it was sobs of relief. She had been sure when she received the letter that her little boy would never walk again, that'd he’d be confined to a wheelchair for the rest of his life. Hearing Hanji say that her baby boy would be able to walk again, even with assistance, had caused relief to flood her body so quickly that all she could manage to do was cry.

_Her baby was going to walk again._

Jean, however, had heard none of the amazing news. The male was still caught up in his own thoughts, panic setting in as he dug himself deeper and deeper into the anxiety-ridden pits of his own mind. More and more thoughts began to prickle in the back of his mind, his palms began to sweat, and his breathing increased rapidly.

_It's all your fault._

_You’ve ruined her life. She spent all those years taking care of her awful brat of a son, and you can't even repay her by doing something with yourself. She wanted you to pursue your art, buy a little house in Trost, do something with yourself, but no, you just **had** to join the military. You didn't want to do any work, you didn't want to be responsible. You wanted a cushy life in the interior. You were a selfish piece of shit looking out for yourself. She finally accepts you joining the military, with her one request being that you don't join the goddamn survey corps, and what do you do? You join the fucking survey corps. **You** did this to her. **You** hurt her. **You** ruined her life._

_**You deserve this.** _

”Jean!”

Jean jumps, his mind still whirling with guilt, anxiety, and anger. Taking a few moments to calm himself down, he realizes it was Armin who had scared him out of his thought this time.

Jean surveyed the room, realizing he had tapped out for a while. Hanji had left, something he didn't remember happening. His mother was now standing, a look of worry on her face as she stared at her son, bottom lip between her teeth, something Jean knew she only did out of nervous habit. Armin had also changed position, he now sat at the edge of his bed, a book lying forgotten on his pillow. Somewhere in the back of his mind Jean notes that it's a different book than before.

”Are you okay?...” Armin’s soft voice rang out through the eerily quiet room. Silence hung in the air as the two before the brunette awaited an answer.

”o-oh yeah...” Jean managed to choke out, avoiding eye contact with either concerned party. ”just spaced out a bit... A side effect of the meds...”

If Armin or his mother could tell he was lying, they didn't say, choosing to instead change the subject.

”Did you hear Hanji’s news?” his mother pressed, eyes going from concern to relieved in seconds. ”you’re going to walk again.”

Jean blinks in surprise. ”I'mI gonna walk?...”

Fresh tears welled up in Ms. Kirchstien’s at her son's dumbfounded voice. ”Yes, baby... You’re gonna walk.”

”congratulations.” Armin voices, a kind smile on his face.

Despite the good news and the happy atmosphere, Jean couldn't help but feel disgusting. His mind raced with anger as hot tears began to prick behind his golden eyes for the third time that day.

 _’No. No. No. This isn't right!’_ He screamed in his mind. ’ _I shouldn't- I can't-’_

_**I don’t deserve to walk.** _

Jean continued to panic in his head as his mother hugged his head to her chest, happy tears cascading down her face in heavy streams. 

**_I don't deserve to walk._ **

From across the room, Armin’s kind smile slipped from his pale face, quickly being replaced with a look of concern. Something wasn't right, Jean almost seemed... _Upset_  at the news.

_But why?..._

As the blonde continued to watch the brunette intensely, Jean himself, only had one thing running through his mind;

**_I don't deserve to walk._ **

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Kudos and comments are appreciated! Also, thanks to everyone who's already kudo’d/commented/read my fanfiction! It really inspires me to keep on going (:


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof I had the idea for this chapter already and didn’t want to forget it, so here’s another update

After a few hours of wallowing in his own self pity, while faking a smile to his mother and Armin, both parties were called out of the room. Hanji disappearing with his mother, talking of paperwork and documents, as well as explaining that Jean was being discharged due to disability, something Jean had been aware of since he’d found out his legs were crushed.

 

Armin, on the other hand, was pulled out by Erwin Smith, something that worried Jean immensely, though he didn’t know why.

 

Having nothing else to do but let his anxiety take over once more, Jean decided to lay down and try to get some sleep. Though it took him around thirty minutes, the brunette finally managed to shut off his anxiety-ridden mind and and fall into a fitful sleep.

 

————————————————

 

Jean awoke from his light sleep to the sound of rustling coming from Armin’s side of the room. Desperate for someone to talk too, Jean turned towards the noise in hope of striking up a conversation with his blond friend.

 

Though, instead of Armin in the bed next to him, it was Eren Yeager. The Titan shifter looked uncharacteristicly solemn, his body sagged as if he was holding the wait of the entire world on his shoulders. Dark bags made themselves at home under his normally bright blue-green eyes, which were now tired and sad looking. His light brown hair lay flat against his forehead, shining with grease, as if it hadn’t been washed in a few days. He didn’t even have it in him to make fun of Jean, a fact that had fear and concern eating away at Jean’s chest.

 

“They’re kicking him out.” Eren’s low voice rang out, like his mother’s, Eren’s voice sounded as if he had aged ten years. “They’re kicking him out and he has no place to go.”

 

Jean only stared in response, trying to decipher what the Titan-shifter was talking about.

 

“Armin.” Eren bit out, irritation now shining through. “They’re kicking Armin out.”

 

Oh.

 

_Oh._

 

“W-what?” Jean manages to croak out, voice straining with emotion. “But why?...”

 

“Liability or some shit. Mikasa and I tried to get them to let him stay on as a strategist, but they won’t budge. He’s getting kicked out and he has no where to go. No family to take him in, no money to buy a house. He’ll be all alone.” Eren was beginning to choke up, tears pulling in those dead eyes of his. His body shook like a leaf, he looked like he was going to be sick.

 

Jean wasn’t much better, sadness pooled into his gut as he imagined Armin walking the streets, not being able to find work, starving, scared and alone.

 

“B-but what about everything he’s done!?” Jean suddenly shouted, anger quickly replacing grief. “Fighting in Trost!? Unmasking the female titan!? Doesn’t that count for anything!?”

 

“No.” Eren croaks, pulling his knees to his chest and hugging them for dear life. “Not in the eyes of the law. Hanji claims that Erwin tried to fight it, to ask for an exception, but he was denied... there’s talk of sending him to the underground.”

 

 _”What!?”_  Jean screams, sitting up a little to quickly, jostling his injured limbs. He bites back a groan of pain as Eren continues.

 

“Overpopulation. Unless he can find somewhere he can live permanently by the time he’s discharged, he’s being sent to the underground.”

 

“And you’re sure he doesn’t have any money?” Jean whispers, desperately trying to latch onto something to save his blonde friend from the horrid life of the underground. “Did his parents leave him a trust-fund? O-or his grandpa?”

 

“No. They were never very rich. All that he was left was the house, and he can’t exactly go back there.” Eren explained, choking on his own grief.

 

The two soldiers sat in silence for a long time, anger and sadness festering in both of their bodies. This wasn’t fair. This wasn’t right. After everything Armin had endured, he was going to be cast out onto the streets for something he had no control over. Bile began to rise in Jean’s throat as nausea took over. He was barley able to choke it back down when Eren started up speaking again.

 

“Mikasa refuses to talk about it.” Eren mumbles, gripping the bedsheets until his knuckles were white. “I guess it’s her way of coping.”

 

Jean modded, remembering how cold she’d gotten after she learned of Eren’s supposed death back in Trost. She’d shut down, leaving Jean to pick up her slack and lead the others to where there gas was being held.

 

Was it wrong to wish that he was back there? Instead of here, laying in a hospital bed with useless legs, listening to Eren Yeager vent to him about how Armin was about to have his life altered even more?

 

“I guess that’s why I’m sharing all of this with you.” The light-haired male laughed mirthfully. “She won’t talk about it, Armin’s living it... I don’t have anyone else to turn too.”

 

“I know we don’t exactly get along.” Jean found himself speaking, words tumbling out of his mouth without consent. “But he’s my friend too... and if there’s anything I can do to help, I will.”

 

Eren snorted, a pained smile pulling at his lips. “Unless you can give him a house I doubt it.”

 

Then it clicked. Jean’s eyes lit up, and he once again sat up to quickly, causing pain to surge through his body. Biting back a cry of pain, Jean spoke. “I may not be able to buy him a house but I can provide him one to live in!”

 

“What?”

 

“He can come live with me and mom!” Jean elaborated, eyes wide with excitement. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of it sooner!”

 

Eren’s head shot up, life flooding into his eyes for the first time that day. “You’re serious? Would your mom be okay with that?”

 

Jean nodded frantically, trying to gather his thoughts. “She’s a kindhearted woman, I know that if I told her the situation she’d be all for it-“

 

Jean gasped as Eren’s chest rammed into his shoulder. His tawny eyes widened as he felt the titan-shifter wrap his arms around him in an awkward hug. Eren’s body was shaking with excitement and he latched onto the two-toned male with an iron grip.

 

“Thank you.” Eren managed to gasp out, “thank you so much. I-I’ll repay you, somehow. I promise.”

 

“N-no need.” Jean answered, still in shock. “I care about him too.”

 

Eren pulls away, nodding. His body still shaking with excitement. “Fuck, I need to tell them.”

 

Jean smiles softly, watching as Eren frantically runs around the room in search of his coat, before dashing out the door full speed. His heavy footsteps echoing down the otherwise quiet halls as searches for Mikasa and Armin to inform them of the news.

 

“I guess I better tell mom of our new guest...” Jean mutters to himself, biting his lip and ringing the bell to summon the nurse on duty, so he can ask her to fetch his mother down the hall.

 

For the first time in a while. Jean feels good.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I edit chapters as I go, so if you find any mistakes, please inform me!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s been a moment, I hope you all can forgive me haha. School’s been crazy, hope to be back to updating more frequently soon!

Jean Kirchstien was stuck.

The brunette was forced between the states of complete, utter despair, and the feeling of pure elation. He was always one or the other, his mood swings violent and obvious. Anything could set him off in either direction, sometimes all it took was a look and he was screaming at whoever was the closest to him at the time.

Unfortunately, that meant Armin was usually the one at the receiving end of his outbursts. It truly was a ”good days are really good, and bad days are really bad.” type of situation. Something that Jean Kirschtien was not at all proud of.

Jean would apologize, truly, he didn't want to yell at him. In fact, afterward, he always felt the guilt eating away at his being. His inner demons screaming at him in his own form of self-punishment.

_You don’t deserve to walk._

Armin claimed to understand, reiterated over and over that he knew Jean didn't mean to yell, but Jean saw how he flinched every time he raised his voice, the sadness that shined in those gorgeous blue eyes when he yelled. How resistant he was to speak to him, how carefully he chose his words now.

_You don’t deserve to walk._

On the other hand, when Jean was stuck in his blissfully elated state (usually caused by his mother’s home cooking, speaking with Armin about living together, or Armin having a good physical exam with Hanji) Armin and his mother would try so hard to keep him there that’d they become almost robotic, tripping over their words, trying so hard to keep _him_ happy.

It truly wasn't fair to them.

Luckily, though self-deprecating as ever, today was a good day. He’d woken up to the smell of his mother’s home cooking, which she’d dropped off on her way to sign a consent form allowing her to take in Armin after he was finished being treated by the survey corps medical team. Armin, too, had to sign a multitude of forms and papers, those of which were sprawled around the small infirmary bed that Armin currently resided in. His hair resembled a blonde rats nest, his skin was still a shade lighter than usual (which Jean still couldn't believe was possible), causing dark bags to clash under a focused eye. His now useless right eye almost seemed to see through the page as he wrote, which made Jean notice how the blonde now tilted his head to write, trying his best to fill out and read the forms with his newfound disability.

”shit.” Armin hissed under his breath, the form ripping under his shaky hands. With a long sigh, he balled it up and tossed it to the side. The page joined its fellow discarded brethren on the ground as Armin called for the nurse, his soft voice ringing across the silent room, as he asked for another form.

The door closed as the nurse went to search for another form, with a sigh, Armin dropped his head into his hands.

”That’s the sixth one this morning.” he groaned in embarrassment, peeking at the brunette between his small fingers. ”I can’t stop shaking, and it’s making me rip the pages.”

”I’m sorry.” Jean managed, not knowing what else to say. He had no idea what Armin was going through right now, sure, he could empathize with being discharged due to injury, as well as the horror of knowing you’ll truly be the same ever again, but that’s where the similarities ended. Jean was going home, he’d be in his childhood home, in a familiar room and neighborhood. Yeah, he’d have to relearn how to walk, but at least he’ll be somewhere he’s comfortable. 

Armin will be learning to cope with his new life in a totally new environment. He’ll be separated from the only two people he considers family for the first time since he was five years old, and though he’d gotten to know his mother in the past two weeks, she was still practically a stranger to him. 

Jean had no idea how he did it.

He’d be a mess, hell he's a mess _now,_ he couldn't even imagine how he’d react if he was in Armin’s situation.

_You don't deserve to walk._

”Thank you.” 

The blondes angelic voice ripped Jean out of his thoughts, and despite not meaning too, Jean rolls his eyes. 

”How many times do I have to tell you it's not that big of a deal? Anyone decent would have done the very same.”

”I know... I just... I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay you and your mother...” Armin’s voice was laced with anxiety, his teeth chewed nervously at his bottom lip as he avoided Jean’s tawny-eyed gaze.

”Like I told Yeager, you don’t need too. Not letting you end up in the underground is repayment enough.”

”I’m still going to help your mother around the house the best I can,” Armin responded in a huff, his sickly pale skin dusted with a pink blush. ”and you as well.”

Jean couldn’t help but snort a little, causing the blonde to blush a little harder. ”whatever makes you happy, Army.” 

”Army?”

Jean’s eyes widened, a flush of his own now creeping its way up his neck. Avoiding eye-contact, the brunette forced a cough as Jean awkwardly tried to explain himself. ”Army” was a nickname Jean had come up with ages ago, something he’d call him in private letters to friends, notes on drawings of his petite friend, or entries in his journal he often used to decompress. It was a lame sort-of joke he had come up with one day, he had been delirious with exhaustion and made the connection of ”Armin”, ”Military”, and ”Army” (and had laughed about it for five minutes to the annoyance of his bunkmates) and ever since then, it’d sort of stuck as an unofficial nickname. 

And now he's gone and said it out loud to the blonde himself. 

_Shit._

”O-oh... Umm, yeah... It’s sorta a nickname I-I cams up with...”

Silence.

Jean winced as anxiety slowly began to creep its way into his heart. His palms began to sweat as his breathing increased. He fought hard to force an apology out of his throat. 

”I’m sorry-”

”I like it!”

Jean’s head snapped upwards after being interrupted by the outburst. Anxiety leaving his body and quickly being replaced with a strange, warm feeling that seemed to stem from his chest as he stared at his extremely embarrassed friend. 

Armin was flushed beet red from the tips of his ears passed his (extremely prominent) collar-bone. He stared at Jean intensely, left eye swimming with an emotion Jean couldn't place, though it seemed vaguely familiar. Jean felt his breathing intensify once more, though this time it wasn't the symptom of a panic attack. No, this was something else, something Jean had never felt before. His pulse was rushing, head reeling, and face flushing with an emotion that he couldn't place no matter how hard he tried to identify it. 

One look at Armin and he knew he was feeling it too. 

The feeling was intense, warm, almost primal in nature, and the longer he stared into the blonde's eyes, the stronger the feeling seemed to get.

It was almost like he forgot how to breathe.

”Army...” Armin whispered, his voice suddenly sounding like an angelic choir. Hearing the nickname coming from the blonde's lips made Jean’s chest tighten.

If Jean didn't know any better, he’d call the situation erotic.

”Army,” Jean confirmed, his voice cracking for some unknown reason. 

If Jean didn't know any better...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Kudos/Comments are very much appreciated!
> 
> If anyone caught my Wicked reference i’ll love you forever.


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